


She's Like A Lost Flower

by orphan_account



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst, Canon Related, F/F, Heavy Angst, Hidden Feelings, Kayfabe Compliant, Love/Hate, Sad Ending, Sexist Language, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 15:52:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7178462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After her retirement match at Unforgiven 2006, Trish Stratus should feel at top of the world. So why is she sitting alone in a locker room, crying? And just where do her feelings for Lita lay?</p>
            </blockquote>





	She's Like A Lost Flower

**Author's Note:**

> Set post 'Unforgiven 2006,' AKA Trish's retirement.
> 
> My first time writing Trish and Lita; I love them so much.
> 
> Be warned; no fuzzy feelings here. Heavy angst abound. 
> 
> This is 100 percent kayfabe compliant. At this point in kayfabe, Trish and Lita HATED each other, the most bitter of rivals. By the Raw 15th anniversary they were besties. 
> 
> So what happened?
> 
> Well this tells Trish's side of the story, but be warned, it does not end on a happy note.
> 
> Also TRIGGER WARNING:
> 
> Usage of the misogynist slurs 'sl*t' and 'b*tch.'
> 
>  
> 
> I do not claim to in anyway represent the lives of the people involved, nor do I claim to represent the WWE. I am only cooking in Vinny Mac's Kayfabe Kitchen.
> 
>  
> 
> Anyway, hope you like the sad lesbians.

* * *

 

Trish Stratus sat in the empty women's locker room, sweat covered hair and ring gear clinging to her, tracing the thick red block letters reading  **WOMEN'S** on the golden championship belt that she was holding.

 

She could faintly hear the scrambling outside; various wresters running in and out of locker rooms, to-and-from the ring, management and crew members yelling and calling, but it was practically non-existent compared to her own thoughts.

 

Trish looked down at the belt again, frowning.

 

This was supposed to be the most joyous night of her life; her retirement. A night to go out on top, show what she was made of, and celebrate her accomplishments; and while she was out there, the hometown crowd cheering at her use of a sharpshooter, and screaming  _Thank You Trish!,_ as she bowed in the middle of the ring, tears streaming down her face, it certainly felt that way. The show of love and of gratitude was unlike anything she'd felt before. 

 

But now, that she was on her own on a wooden bench, she didn't feel like that at all.

 

She felt... empty.

 

Was it the feeling of numb shock at the realisation that she'd never be able to go one-on-one in the squared circle again? That feeling of  _What the hell do I do now?_

 

Perhaps.

 

But she knew, more than anything, that one name was calling out to her in her head.

 

_Lita._

 

The red-head infuriated her. Years ago, when she had tried to act like the cruel and stuck-up princess, feeling that she needed to in order to defend herself, she hated Lita's rockstar-chick-tomboy ways.

 

_...no you didn't, you were jealous of her natural lucha-libre talent in the ring and popularity with the fans..._

 

Now, she hated her bitchy, slutty attitude.

 

_...you hate how far she's fallen, a woman you could once secretly admire, reduced to being cruel, nasty and scheming ... you don't think that's she's a 'slut' or a 'ho,' you never really would ... you hate that she doesn't love you..._

 

Trish clenched the title harder.

 

She didn't love Lita. She couldn't love Lita.

 

She _did_ love Lita.

 

She always had. As far back as when she worked with Test and Albert she had. The fiery redhead was the most beautiful woman Trish had ever seen. But she couldn't handle her hidden desires and it made her hate Lita.

 

Which in turn made Lita hate her.

 

Which in turn made her hate Lita more.

 

It was like some sort of cruel, self-fulfilling prophecy, some endless nightmare. The line between love and hate was so thin, it scared her.

 

Trish had had many rivals. Jazz, Molly, Victoria, Christy and most recently, Mickie. But none of them came close to Lita. Lita made her step up her game. Lita made her think twice. Lita brought out the fire, and the energy within her. Lita made her more competitive. Lita made her put on her best matches.

 

Lita drove her insane.

 

That's why it had to be Lita - her last match.

 

It's like she said.

 

" _One last time, one last match. Trish and Lita."_

 

It had to be Lita. It couldn't be anyone else.

 

It was always Lita.

 

Before the match, she had been so angry at Lita, so determent to kick her ass.

 

She'd been angry at her for the way she'd been acting for the past year. She'd been angry at her for being so goddamn cocky. She'd been angry at her for leaking her retirement, for being so noisy. She'd been angry at her for the years of pent-up feelings.

 

Now though? Now that all was said and done. Now that the match had been won - now that she was officially retired.

 

She just felt empty.

 

She'd won her last match... went out on top... but that didn't change how she felt for Lita; those kinds of emotions didn't just disappear.

 

More importantly, now that she was down from the high of the rush of the ring, the roar of the crowd, and the feeling of gold... she realised something.

 

She was retiring.... but Lita wasn't.

 

She wouldn't see Lita anymore.

 

On the one hand she was glad... being away from Lita might help her to finally move on. There were so many things she wanted to do... and perhaps she'd be able to get away from her feelings while doing them.

 

But on the other hand, she feared that being away from Lita would've make her feelings go away, but only make them worse. That she'd have sleepless nights, in order to avoid dreaming about the other woman's touch. That she'd obsessively sit, watching _Raw_ , watching Lita be Women's Champion in her absence. Because she knew she would. Trish knew the moment she vacated the title, that Lita would snatch it up. There was simply no competition. The only woman who came even close to Lita in the ring was Mickie, who Trish had to admit, despite the other woman's... _weird_ personality... had managed to best her at Wrestlemania. But even then, Mickie wasn't Lita. Mickie didn't have the spark Trish saw in Lita day-in-day-out.

 

Lita would have everything she no longer had. Even though retiring was what Trish wanted, it still stung... but not as much as the sting of no longer seeing Lita, of no longer being able to sneak glances like a thief in the locker room. 

 

Trish would have to accept that Lita would stand tall as champion, tormenting her without even realising it as she locked lips with that damn Edge.

 

It was bad enough when she was dating Matt; but with Edge, it seemed like the two were constantly one step away from jumping each other right in front of her.

 

She hated it, she hated _herself_ for feeling this way for her own rival, and she hated the fact that she'd probably have to live with these feelings forever. That Lita would probably marry stupid Edge and have obnoxious kids, and wouldn't even care about her. 

 

Lita hated Trish. She made as much clear during the match. Lita's words, _"You're mine Trish!"_ ran through her head, making her shiver at the shear venom she felt from them. When she'd heard them her heart raced, imagining what they'd sound like in another world, a world were Trish _was_ Lita's. Then, after crashing down to reality at the screaming woman in front her, she'd gotten the burst of rage she needed to beat Lita. A victory she'd wanted so damn much. A victory she'd worked so damn hard for. A victory that made the crowd applaud her. So, why did it feel so hollow?

 

Because, Lita _hated_ Trish.

 

She was probably so glad to be free of her greatest rival. She probably never wanted to speak to her again... 

 

 _God_ , Trish missed that brief time when she and Lita had been friends, before she had to go and ruin it, all because she couldn't cope with realising how she felt.

 

Realising that she loved Lita.

 

_**L-O-V-E** _

 

The word was like poison on her lips.

 

But love didn't matter, because Lita hated Trish and would never feel the same. She _couldn't_ feel the same; and that killed her.

 

Trish didn't even realise that tears were streaming down her face until she heard a voice.

 

"What the hell are you _crying_ for?"

 

Trish froze.

 

_Lita._

 

She wiped her eyes and tried to look anywhere but  _her._ "I'm just so overwhelmed," she managed to get out, "Y'know, the emotion of the night. Seven time Women's Champion... I can't believe it!"

 

Lita just laughed. "Aww, you're overwhelmed... the _emotions_ ," she rolled her eyes, "Give me a break. Y'know despite losing to you, and that stupid sharpshooter. I'm happy. You wanna know why? Because now you're gone! And I'll have the Women's Title all to myself," she laughed.

 

At that _laugh,_ something within Trish snapped. The Lita she knew, even at her most _pissed off_ , would never act like that.

 

"You know something," Trish stood up, "I'll admit that even when I hated you most, I had some level of respect for you and your wrestling skills. I still thought you were an obnoxious _idiot_... but I had some respect. I even stood up for you when the crowd called you a slut, remember? Because I knew that, despite all we'd been through, it wasn't true. I respected you too much to have them call you that... I know, you won't believe me, with the way I've treated you over the years, but it's true. I respected you as a rival... and... at one point in time... I even respected you as a friend." Trish's voice cracked. "But now... with the way you've been treating me? I take back any respect I ever had for you. I don't regret anything I ever did to you. I don't regret making your life a living Hell. I'm glad. And you know why, sweetie? Because I was right. They were right. You are a-" Trish voice raised to scream, "- _Bitch_!"

 

Lita looked at Trish for a moment in disbelieve, forming a thin line with her mouth. She then looked around for a moment, before smiling. "Alright. Fine. You think I'm a bitch. I'm not shocked. It's hardly the first time you've used the word, and this is hardly the first time you've treated me like dirt. You said so yourself. You wanna now what I think of you? I think you're a phoney," She let the word linger. "You act like this Miss Goody-Two-Shoes now, some hero to the people, going out _beloved_. But I remember who you really are - a heartless bitch. I know this is just some act. You can call me names all you want, but you, Trish Stratus, are no better. There's no love lost here." 

 

With that, the red-head turned on her heels and left the locker room.

 

When she was gone, Trish fell on her knees and sobbed.

 

 _God_ , Lita was right. She _was_ no better than her.

 

She didn't mean what she said; she didn't mean any of it. She didn't hate Lita; Lita could _kill_ her and she wouldn't. But she was so overcome with anger and pain, that she just screamed and shouted, and now Lita had left her without even a goodbye, and she'd probably never see her again...

 

But, it's not like any of that mattered. Trish could've hugged Lita and told her how much she loved her. Lita could still be that combat trouser wearing, high flying, fan-favourite of years gone by. None of it mattered. It didn't matter who was the good guy and who was the bad guy. Lita'd always hated her. Always thought she was a _b-i-t-c-h._

 

Trish could do anything, and that would never change.

 

The only way it could've changed was if Trish, on that very first day she'd shown up in the WWF, wearing a cowboy hat and tube top, had chose to be a different person. A person Lita could love.

 

But she hadn't.

 

So now, here she was, half-naked and alone, crying in an arena, and what was supposed to be a night of celebration, all because, despite it all, she _still_ loved Lita.

 

She _loved_ her, and she'd never be able to tell her.

 

Trish had spent the past few months hoping that after she'd retired, she could perhaps build bridges and make up with Lita. Perhaps they could be friends again. _Friends_. That's all they could be, and Trish could live with that.

 

But after tonight? Trish knew they'd never be friends again. They'd be nothing but bitter enemies, until the end.

 

_And here you are, still wanting her. Still loving her. Idiot._

 

She was trapped in her own personal nightmare. Loving a woman who hated her, and it was all her fault.

 

"I love you, Lita," she voiced to no one but herself, because that was all she could do.

 

She felt like she free-falling, and even now that she was retired, she'd never stop. She knew she'd never love anyone else, and that _killed_ her inside.

 

Her heart only belonged to Lita, and that broke it, leaving her a crying mess, with nothing but her own heartache and a soon-to-be-gone belt. Lita would never even  _like_ her, let alone love. Trish would always love Lita, only pretending to hate. 

 

Trish had stabbed the knife, Lita had only twisted it.

 

Trish and Lita. Two names synonymous with each other. You couldn't have one without the other, a delicate balance.

 

No matter what, in everyones eyes, they'd always always be _Trish & Lita. _

 

The only problem was, they'd never _really_ be _Trish & Lita_.

 

Trish knew they'd never be together...

 


End file.
